


Real Gamer Hours w/ Vane

by 57_percent



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, M/M, siegfried is a detached boomer, there's gay shit if you squint, vane has an emotional breakdown over minecraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 23:23:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18861055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/57_percent/pseuds/57_percent
Summary: Through Vane, Siegfried learns the struggles of being a true Gamer.





	Real Gamer Hours w/ Vane

**Author's Note:**

> Vane's ADHD addled brain physically can not handle the intellectual challenge that is Playing Minecraft on Easy Mode.

A frail, despondent howl sounded out, laden with raw guttural fear and the primal nature of a man cornered by otherworldly fiends; the first indication that something was wrong. Though the horrific tone played out in the distant confines of the Grandcypher, it truly seemed to bore out from within Siegfried’s head. Nigh instantly he leapt up from his reverie, the instinct of battle which lay drilled within his mind’s eye taking over any and all prior actions; If there was trouble, Siegfried would resolve it through blade and battle, through blood and bone, through any and all threat to his allies. 

The resounding holler ricocheted through the halls of the Grandcypher once more, sending a blast of adrenaline through the Black Dragon’s veins. Taken over by protective instinct and the all-too familiar rush of the anticipation which came from the calm before the clashing sonnet of steel against steel, he dashed forth with nary a care for those who stood in his path to battle. Once more, the scream sounded. Weak and fearful was the resounding cry, lacking the prior vigour of those which came before, though originating from the same source. Siegfried was stricken with a queer sense of familiarity, his heart pounding to the beat of greaves plodding noisily against the wooden floorboards underfoot. Realization struck heavy and hard as he neared the source of the noise, much as how a blade through sinews of the chest would strike; terror pulsed through him, an icy blossom seeping forth through his veins, originating within the proverbial blade through his chest. Terror, impending fear, a halberd dangling loftiny above his head in anticipation of the grim scene unfolding just steps away. 

 

It was Vane’s voice. 

 

Siegfried tore through the halls like a bat out of hell. 

 

However, upon reaching the source of the noise, neither attack nor adversary revealed themselves to Siegfried. Instead, Vane sat perched at his desk with his head in his hands, sunshine hair tinged not with the red of blood but instead with that of the dull red light from his computer monitor. Shoulders trembling vehemently, his horrified screams were replaced with an overabundance of tears. The unfounded anticipation vanished. Adrenaline seeped out of Siegfried with each heaving breath he took. (he was not as young as he once was, after all.) Siegfried approached the despondent man as though he was coaxing a frightened puppy out from a corner. Gentle, nurturing; the complete opposite of the man possessed which had bolted across half of the Grandcypher with the intent of slaughter. 

 

“... Vane? What happened?” 

 

The response he got was less than ideal. Even if Vane spoke without the obscuring deluge of sobbing which plagued him at the moment, he would have spoken no decipherable words whatsoever. Instead of sentences, he spoke in several vague gestures and twelve unintelligible syllables which were broken apart by sobs and hiccups. Vane was clearly torn up over whatever had just occurred. His rampant bouts of emotion were common enough, seeing as Vane was never exactly the most emotionally regulated man, though typically they were never quite as intense as this. 

The poor man wailed and carried on as though his own mother had been shot dead before his very eyes.    
  


If Siegfried were to console him, he needed to know what had upset him; though to poke an upset wolf was surely to seal one’s fate. While most wolves would maul with tooth and claw, Vane was different, as he took a more heartfelt, emotional route… a route which often times curdled Siegfried’s cold blood. Impassive, his own heart was barred off behind walls which were forged before his first breath was drawn. Thus, patiently he stood, awaiting the right time to console; Even if he could never find a time to try and interject, he figured that Vane would benefit from letting it all out. 

The tension in the room was vastly uncomfortable. Siegfried had never been good with emotions; not his own, nevertheless those of the people around him. On edge, Siegfried raised a hand to his mouth, worrying the skin of his knuckles between his teeth as he often times did during situations of high stress. Once more, Siegfried’s worried gaze was cast down to Vane. That was when his gaze met with Vane’s. 

Almost instantly, the wolf bore his fangs and pounced. 

 

Vane nearly fell out of his chair, scrambling towards Siegfried and producing a drawn-out sob at an octave unbefitting a man of his size. Brawny forearms threatened to crush Siegfried’s ribs then and there. As he was drawn up into the vice-grip excuse of an embrace, Vane began leaning backwards as though to coax Siegfried towards the desk - or more importantly, the computer upon it. Several attempts at speaking were made, though not a single one succeeded. Each failed attempt seemed to upset Vane even more than the last. Eventually, Vane frustratedly gave up his feeble attempts at communication; still latched to Siegfried, he pointed at the monitor. Insistently. Very, very insistently. 

 

Vane was acting like a child. Regardless, Siegfried chose to indulge him. 

Eight pixelated words stared Siegfried in the face. 

“ **You died! Vane was blown up by creeper.** ”

Siegfried recited the words presented to him, a meandering drawl which stumbled over the unfamiliar lingo. Vane had finally begun to calm himself down, though as if on queue, he broke down once again at the mere utterance of those words. Acting as unpredictably as ever, Vane tumbled away from Siegfried’s body and draped himself across the likely waterlogged desk, where he began to loudly howl with tears. No sum of words could accurately describe the emotional magnitude of Vane’s episode. What a droll scenario he had found himself in. Standing awkwardly at the wayside as a man twenty-five years of age steadily worked himself into a full-blown emotional breakdown over… a computer game.

 

Vane whimpered, dragging a hand down the monitor. With his face still planted firmly on the desk, he mumbled an indecipherable phrase, before turning to Siegfried expectantly, almost as though he expected Siegfried to understand what he had just spoken into the wood grain. The poor man’s face was stained with nearly an hour’s worth of tears. 

  
  


“...Hm? I’m sorry, I didn't quite catch that.” Siegfried sighed.  “Ah… Maybe it would help if you showed me what was bothering you? What is...” He cast his gaze towards the screen, hoping desperately to find something to distract Vane with. “...’Creeper’?” 

 

He chose the wrong option. Vane flew into a fit of hysterics. How could he possibly have known? It truly did not matter how out of touch with modern technology Siegfried was, as it was a hit or miss scenario when Vane was upset. If Percival was here to see this disaster, he would certainly have addressed Siegfried as “Sir Boomer of the Black Dragons.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Siegfried began once again. “Ah - no, Vane, it’s… okay? It’s going to be okay. You don't have to tell me about the ‘Creeper’ if you don’t think you can handle it. Just… can you calm down? Take deep breaths. Vane, pull yourself together. Please.” If someone were to come and cull Siegfried immediately, he would thank them. He was awful at consoling people. For as much time as he spent studying the blade, his interpersonal skills suffered tenfold. All he could do in the moment was to merely pat Vane on the back. Muffled through his arms, Vane managed to squeak out several words.

 

“...h-he came - c-came outta nowhere, and...” 

The fragility of Vane’s emotions was evident. Though he was now almost calm enough to begin speaking, it still seemed as though he was engaged in a constant uphill trek against a flood of feelings which threatened to swallow him whole. 

“...f-four hours of building, gone… I - I’m -”

Siegfried glanced up to the monitor where a cubic shack of dirt stood partially destroyed, greyed out beyond the shaded obituary of Vane’s digital death. Save for one wall and part of the grassy ceiling, almost nothing remained. “...Four hours of building, huh?” Siegfried’s hand remained planted on his shoulder, comforting him to the best of his ability. Vane glanced up tearfully, wiping his eyes dry with his sleeve. “...y-yeah…” “Pity. I’m sorry, Vane. Could you re-build it?” “It - it just isn’t… w-won’t be the same…” 

Siegfried steeled himself. Though he knew nothing about what Vane had been doing, he knew how passionate Vane could get about things he was interested in. He sighed. “I could help, if you wish. I don’t know much about games such as this, but if it makes you happy, I would be more than willing to help.” 

 

Vane was an emotionally volatile man. However, the chaotic nature of his emotions wasn’t limited to just the negative ones. Almost instantly, he perked up; though tears still ran down his cheeks and his nose ran, Vane gazed up at Siegfried as though he were a deity. 

“Siegfried! You’d really… I, um… that - that would be really fun! S-Sir!” 

The grin which parted Vane’s face was brighter than any sunbeam. Siegfried found himself enraptured. Gaze lingering a touch too long and cheeks flushed with a subtle tinge of red, he allowed himself the simple pleasure of a kind smile. “No need for such formalities, Vane. Though we usually follow the hierarchy of knighthood, you don’t have to treat me as your superior right now. We are fellow... “gamers” in arms. Is that the correct term? I must warn you, though, I am afraid that I don’t quite… understand how games such as this work.” Siegfried chuckled dryly. Vane, on the other hand, bellowed out a hearty laugh; his usual effervescence began steadily resurfacing. 

 

“Do you even know what gamer means, Siegfried?” 

 

“...No."

 

“Once I teach you how to play Minecraft, you’ll know what being a real gamer feels like!” 

**Author's Note:**

> creeper? awww man
> 
> twitter - @GEATHJERK  
> gbf discord server - https://discordapp.com/invite/UzCcWnm


End file.
